Tis the season to be jolly
by malfoyforever
Summary: Join the Weasleys, the Malfoys, the Potters, the Scamanders, and other families as they celebrate the winter holidays after the war. Twelve tales in total - five left!
1. Mayhem in Ottery St Catchpole

**Tis the season to be jolly **

_Twelve tales of Christmas _

Mayhem in Ottery St Catchpole

Silence.

_**Silence**_.

Hermione winced as if she had been hit.

Rose, James, and Al, **silent**? This was usually a bad sign.

"You reckon we should check on them?" she asked.

Ron shook his head.

"They can't be in worse trouble than we were-"

"Mum! Daddy! We're home!" Rose called at the same time as James yelled, "OI, Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione!"

"In the kitchen," said Hermione, exchanging a glance with her husband.

Rose and James trampled into the kitchen, one at the time, panting and laughing. She had brown-red curls and big grey blue eyes that Hermione suspected most of her uncles and her father for that matter could not resist. He was tall, with rather protruding ears, freckles, and messy raven black hair – a feature all three of the Potter men shared.

Al, Harry's green-eyed doppelganger, was however nowhere to be seen.

"Outside clothes on their hooks, mittens, hats, and scarves on the dryer," Hermione said calmly. "Boots on the old carpet in the front."

"Muum!" whined Rose.

"Don't whine, young lady," said Ron good-naturedly.

"What your father said," Hermione surveyed them suspiciously, "and when you finished, come back here."

Rose and James gazed up at Hermione and Ron innocently, widened hazel and grey blue eyes.

"Where did you leave Al?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well," Rose said, shrugging, "Last time I saw Al, he was dangling with a hand on his toy broom, Daddy."

"He might've fallen off by now," added James carelessly.

The parents exchanged looks.

"Go find him now," Hermione demanded, "before Ginny and Harry return with Lily and Teddy."

"_Why_?"

"Uncle Ron, tell her no, please..."

Ron put his foot firmly to the ground.

"Al needs to be found," he told them sternly. "Isn't it cold outside?"

"Yeah, Daddy," Rose replied. "But you can just do the Locator Spell, I'm sure it would work better than us two."

"Watch your tongue, Rose Ixora Weasley," said Hermione, narrowing her eyes at her.

"James, Rose – you two try to find him. He _was_ your responsibility, after all."

After a few grumbles, the two cousins set off again.

"Good thing Hugo's only three, now," sighed Hermione, sounding relieved.

"WAHHH!"

"That's – Albus," Ron said. "Why is he - ?"

"I think he is in the garden!" Hermione rushed to open the door. "Albus!"

A scrawny little boy mopped his eyes and stumbled into his aunt's waiting arms.

She hugged him against her and wiped the snow from his hair.

"Where were you, Al? Rose and James said you had fallen off your toy broomstick!"

Al shook his head, tearfully.

"Almost fell," he mumbled. "When I got back on to look, Rose and James were gone!"

Hermione handed him a tissue.

"It's all right," she soothed. "C'mon, I'll get you some cocoa, OK?"

"OK, Auntie."

Ron met them at the door.

"So, Al," he took him from Hermione. "You're all right, then?"

"Yeah."

Hermione sighed. "How ironic is it that we'll have to do a Locator Spell on Jamesie and Rosie."

"No, worse," Ron chuckled dryly, "I don't think Rosie will be too keen to listen to us after today."


	2. Decorating

Decorating 

"Percy, girls, I'm home!"

Audrey lugged in the small pine tree as Molly opened the door for her. The red-haired girl stared at her mother.

"Mum, that for - ?"

"I think it is," said Percy, adjusting his spectacles. "Goodness, gracious! Here, Audrey, let me take it!"

He started to take out his wand, but his wife shook her head.

"There's no shame in manual work," the Squib said, smiling. "C'mon, Moll, you and Lucy can go find the decorations. I believe they're in my closet."

Molly set out to find her sister.

They installed the small pine tree in a purple pot in the sitting room, near the keyboard that Audrey had won in a school raffle.

Molly and Lucy carefully strung generous amounts of tinsel and tiny silver and gold bells on the tree's delicate branches. It tipped over a bit, but did not fall.

The family of four admired their handiwork.

Percy had a small smile.

"Just some other things," he said, and waved his wand.

A candle appeared near Lucy's homemade snowflake, with a blank label at its feet.

"Fred," murmured Percy, and the candle was lit.

Audrey took another candle from her husband.

"Penny," she said softly, taking a cigarette lighter from her pocket.

"Nymphadora Tonks."

"Remus Lupin."

"Colin Creevey."

"Uncle Fabian," whispered Lucy.

"Uncle Gideon," said Molly.

Soon, the tree was beautifully adorned with vividly lit candles in honour of those who had died for the Cause.

"They would love it," Audrey patted Percy's shoulder. "Especially your brother."

Percy sighed nostalgically.

"I know they would. That _he_ would."

As Audrey left to begin cooking dinner, Percy whispered to a flame in particular,

"Merry Christmas, Fred."


	3. Between father and daughter

Between father and daughter

Bill sat at the edge of the cliff, closing his eyes as the sounds of the waves crashing against the rock pounded in his ears. The scars on his arms, chest, and face were aching again, aching _so_ hard. A moan escaped his throat, his lips barely moving. His hand formed a fist as he struggled to not listen to the wolf within him.

It was easier than it was in the beginning. At the beginning, he was wild, though he tried to not show it. At the beginning, his inner wolf hurt him, so much, when he refused to listen. It was horrible, having an animalistic mind and a human one, all at once. Bill was endlessly grateful for Lupin, and quite admired him. The man had lived with this, and transforming, for his entire life – horrible, Bill repeated.

"Papa?"

Not her, he thought desperately. It was unwise for him to have contact with his children when the full moon approached so quickly. How could Fleur have let her come out? However, the party was continuing, he could see through the kitchen window, and no one would have noticed a young girl slipping out.

"Vicky," he said wearily, his voice slightly hoarse from disuse.

"Are you OK?" she asked, sitting beside him, her blond hair silver in the moonlight.

"I'm fine."

The father and daughter stared into the distance for a while, so close, yet so far, without even a touch. Finally, Bill rubbed his face and sighed. He had wanted to know this since she had begun recognising faces, and had never had the courage to ask her – some Gryffindor he was.

"Victoire... Have you ever been scared of me?"

She frowned, a perfect imitation of her mother – perhaps subconsciously, though. Reaching out to gently brush his cheek with her childlike, innocent manner, she said with a hesitant smile, "You mean of your face, Daddy?"

"Yes. Of my face."

"Never," her blue eyes stared up at him curiously. "Why? That's how you are, Daddy – same as Teddy and his changing ability – Meta- Metaphorgus?"

"Metamorphagus," Bill corrected.

"And.." She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. "And Maman says that your scars show that you're brave."

Bill had a small smile.

Running his hands through her blonde hair, he shook his head at his foolishness. How could he have thought that his own daughter would be scared of him? His scarred face was the only one she associated with Daddy, after all. She had never seen how his face should have been; only in photographs, and she had even gaped then.

She tugged at his sleeve.

"You want to come inside for some cocoa, Daddy?" she asked. "You might get cold."

The corners of his mouth turned.

"Yes, I'll come in, Victoire."

* * *

><p><strong>Hmm. Not as light as the two previous, but I like this one. <strong>

**Sorry for the long wait :P Hopefully, next up will be the Potters or some other family, but as I'm already on a Weasley-spree... **

**Please read and review, especially if you favourited/alerted!**


	4. Big News

Big News 

"Daddy and I have news."

James looks up from his coloring book. He has a bad feeling about this. He wishes that he could talk to Rosie about it, but she's at her Nana and Granddad Granger's house for the Christmas Eve dinner this year. Al is nearby, watching stupid little baby cartoons on the telly.

"What kind of news?" he asks warily, hazel eyes wide. If Mummy's going to tell him and Al that they need their annual checkups, James swears that he's going to run away to Rosie's house. Last time Healer Sawyer gave him a potion for his tummy that was _so_ yucky he _puked_.

"Why don't we sit down?" Daddy joins Mummy on the sofa and pats the two remaining seats. "You can color and watch the rest of the show later."

Al makes a face, but obeys, and James has to say that he listens as well. That happens, he supposes, when he's curious enough.

"What kind of news?" James repeats once they're settled.

Mummy sighs. "Big news, honey."

He buries his face in his hands. Al pats his arm repeatedly, trying to get his attention. "What's wrong, Jamesie?"

"Nothing. Daddy, you're **evil**!"

"Why?" Daddy asks. He sounds amused, which makes James angrier. He elbows Mummy, whispering something sounding like, "How does he know where babies came from?"

Mummy shrugs.

"Because you made Mummy have another baby!"

The room's silent. James doesn't like long silences like this. Slowly, he looks up. Daddy looks like he's trying to not smile, Mummy looks half annoyed and half amused, and Al looks shocked and suspicious. James's little brother tugs at his father.

"Daddy... Daddy, Jamesie is joking, right?"

Daddy has a grim smile and shakes his head. Instantly, Al's face falls.

"Look on the bright side," Mummy tells him, with a small smile, "you're going to be a big brother!"

Al thinks this over, frowning.

"Can I hide him in the broom shed?"

James sighs. _Poor little Al-baby_. He'll never outgrow his stuffed dragon at this rate.

Mummy turns to him, a not-so-good look on her face. "You hid him in the broom shed when you told us that he was at Bridget's?"

Bridget's the girl next door. James personally thinks that she's very pretty. He hangs his head.

Mummy's face is as red as her face, but Daddy whispers something into her ear, kisses her, and clears his throat a bit awkwardly. "That was not very nice of you, James," he says in a disappointed voice that makes James very sad, "But never mind that; as you figured out, Mummy's pregnant."

"_Again_," he mumbles. "Yes, Daddy."

"Well, yes," Daddy chuckles, "It means you and Al will have a baby brother or sister. Soon we'll be finding out if he or she is a boy or a girl. You'll help us choose names-"

"I think Bridget is a nice name!" James says.

"Kimmy!" Al protests.

Mummy whacks Daddy playfully. "Clearly, they have your genes," she says with a small grin.

"_My_ genes?"

Al lays his head on her lap before Mummy can retort. "You'll still love me even if there's a new baby," he says with a worried look, "right, Mummy? Right?"

James has a familiar urge to smack him. Mummy laughs and strokes his hair. "Of course, Al. You're still my baby."

"For _now_," he mutters darkly.

Daddy grins sympathetically and grabs James, tickling his feet. James howls with laughter and kicks him. "Well, Gin, he's my big boy, aren't you, James?"

"Yeah!" he sticks his tongue out at Al. "Big boys are _cooler_ than babies!"

Before another fight between the brothers can break out, James feels himself be picked up by Daddy, piggyback-style. He throws his arms round Daddy's neck. "Giddyup, Daddy!"

Daddy laughs. "Oof, you're getting pretty heavy, Jamesie."

"Where're we going?"

"Bed."

"Daddy!"

"It's Christmas Eve," Mummy says, "Remember, Father Christmas..."

"I'm big, I don't believe in that stuff," James answers with a scowl.

Daddy winks at him as he puts him onto the bed.

"You're never too old to believe in some things, Jamesie," he says in his very-serious voice.

James watches him leave the room, and then yawns.

Maybe Daddy was right.

* * *

><p><strong>Yay, not a Weasley one! I love writing the Potters - especially James and Al's competition, they're so damn cute :) <strong>

**Next up is Scorpius and his older sister (an OC, Megara) and then it'll be Luna and Lysander. **

**I know it's been a while, but please read and review, especially if you favourited/alerted, and thank you! :)**


	5. Impossible wishes

Impossible wishes 

Megara smiled at her brother. They had just finished an entire box of hot gingerbread, stolen from the kitchens. She supposed that a tiny bit of sweets on Christmas Eve was not considered as wholly bad. "Goodnight, Scorpie."

"Wait!"

She turned, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders.

"What?"

Scorpius's grey eyes stared at her. "Don't you ever..."

"Ever what?" she snapped. "Get to the point, I have things to do!"

"Don't you ever wish," he paused, "don't you ever wish that we were born into a different family?"

Megara frowned. "That's useless, because it's impossible."

He ignored her. "If we were born into another family, Meggie, we wouldn't have to apply the pureblood manner. We wouldn't have to have etiquette courses. We wouldn't be glared at on the street, we wouldn't be refused in spots because of our name. We'd be _loved_."

She flushed. "We _are_ loved."

"Maybe we are," Scorpius hesitated, "but our family never _shows_ it." He didn't look at her. "Sometimes, I don't think they do."

"They show it _occasionally_," Megara said with a cross look. "They buy us Christmas presents."

"Money doesn't define love."

She laughed. "Do you think you're a philosopher, Scorpius Malfoy?"

He smiled wryly. "Heard that somewhere. Point is, Megara, our life would be bloody different if we weren't Malfoys."

"If we weren't Malfoys," Megara retorted, "we wouldn't live here. We wouldn't be part of those big Christmas feasts. There'd be loads of things that we'd be missing, Scorpie."

The gaze from his stormy grey eyes was piercing, but Megara's steely grey ones were nothing if not a match for them. Still, she found it hard to resist the urge to look away.

"There are loads of things we are missing on right now."

"You know," Megara walked towards the door. "You know, Scorpius, you're right, sometimes, I do. But as I said, it's useless, because these are impossible wishes. Christmas is a time for family; we're going to be thankful of the one we've got, not the one we want. We can't have everything we want, Scorpie; life's like that."

"I _know_," Scorpius sighed. "'Night, then."

"'Night."

Megara Malfoy went back to her bedroom and searched for her mother's goodbye note to her father, the one she had written when she had left Father after having Megara, years ago. When she found it, she pressed it against her cheek, and imagined the scent of her mother's perfume.

"Happy Christmas, Mum, Mother," she whispered as she folded it back again, the smudged ink on the yellow parchment paper well visible, "Wish you were here."

(Clearly, it was a half-truth.)

* * *

><p><strong>Just to clarify... Megara is the illegitimate daughter of Draco and Pansy; she's one year younger than Teddy and a year older than Victoire. And so, she's Scorpius's half-sister. <strong>

**Next up are Luna and Lysander, after that, I'm not too sure. **

**Please read and review, especially if you favourited/alerted! **


	6. Confessions during Fishing

Confessions during Fishing

"Mum?"

Luna doesn't look up from her fishing rod. "Yes, honey?"

"Mum, I don't..."

"You can say it, Lysander," Luna says with a small smile. "I won't bite, you know."

"Right." Lysander looks at his feet. "Mum, I don't really believe in... Nargles and all."

He had expected a reaction from his mum; he had expected a scolding. He hangs his head.

He's surprised when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

Luna's _still_ smiling serenely. "I'll tell you something, sweetie," she says quietly. "After a few years in Magizoology research... I began to doubt their existence as well. But it's always nice to have something to believe in when everything else falls apart, don't you think?"

She inspects the end of her fishing rod. "Hmm. Maybe Plimpies don't like Gillyweed, after all. I should probably ask Rolf for some Aquavirius Maggots, he's got quite a stock... The natives gave us them in return for the Pumpkin Pasties we brought from home, you know."

Lysander ignores her mother's dreamy ramblings and clears his throat awkwardly. "So, er, you're not angry or anything?"

She blinks, her large, silvery eyes staring at him. She smiles and pats his head.

"Of course not, Lysander... Just don't tell your brother anything, OK? Sooner or later, he'll figure it out as well, by himself. To each, their own," Luna drifts off, her voice a teensy bit wistful.

"Thanks, Mum." Lysander examines his hook. "Can I go inside now? The mosquitoes are getting to me..."

Luna nods. "Anti-itch cream's in the purple-striped cupboard, you can ask Lorcan. I'll be back soon – funny, it doesn't feel like Christmas, in the middle of the rain forest..."

And so he goes back to their shack in the middle of nowhere; Lysander Scamander leaves his mum in her reveries, fishing for creatures which may or may not exist.

* * *

><p><strong>Actually, this one was my favorite... Luna is so easy to write, and Lysander as well... :) <strong>

**Please read and review, especially if you favourited/alerted! **


	7. Expectations

Expectations 

Ever since Kellan's come home from his first term at Hogwarts, Neville's noticed that he's quieter than usual; at Christmas Eve dinner, always erratic because of Hannah and his varying shifts downstairs, in the pub, Neville catches his son picking at his food while his two sisters row over who's going to feed the cat.

"You know," Blizzard snaps, "Harry likes my salmon, not yours! You know that you always put too much cream on it, and it gives him-"

"And why," Valerie retorts with a roll of her eyes, "are we even fighting over this?"

Her older sister shrugs. "Maybe because it's Christmas Eve and we have nothing else to fight over?"

"We're not supposed to fight _at all_ on Christmas Eve," Kellan mumbles.

Three pairs of eyes are on him, and he immediately regrets speaking.

"Kellan?" Neville stares at him with concerned brown eyes. "Is everything alright?"

"N- I mean, yes! Why wouldn't it be?"

"You've hardly eaten anything," Valerie points out, "Usually, you clear the plate in three seconds-"

"Actually, two," Blizzard smirks, "the other is for swallowing."

"Oh, shut up, you-"

"Girls," Neville interrupts. "Kellan, tell us what's wrong. We're your family; we can help you."

Kellan blushes and focuses on his pasta. "I think you're disappointed I got Sorted into Hufflepuff," he mutters quickly.

They stare at him some more.

"Could you repeat that?" Valerie says gently. "We didn't catch it."

He obeys.

Neville sighs; Kellan first thinks he's reprimanding him, but he looks up and sees sympathy in his father's round face. "Oh, Kel," he says softly. "Did you really think?"

"Think what?"

"Think that just because I was Gryffindor, you would be, too."

Kellan looks down. "Well, yes."

"I used to think that, too," Neville's eyes are elsewhere, "my dad was Gryffindor. Gran always used to tell me about living up to expectations-"

"Yeah?"

"- But then I realised that the only expectations I could live up to are my own." Neville smiles. "It's true for all of you, you know."

"No shit," Blizzard mutters, rolling her eyes at Neville. "Sappy, Dad."

"Sappy," Valerie says with an approving nod, "but very true, Dad."

"Arse-kisser," her sister shoots.

"Savage," she retorts.

Neville sighs and shakes his head with a small smile at Kellan. "You know, son, it was far simpler when we spent our Christmas Eves speaking of the presents Father Christmas would bring."

Kellan glances at them amusingly and grins. "Sorry, Dad, but I think that time is _long_ over, by the looks of it."

* * *

><p><strong>Neville and Hannah's little family: Marilyse (known as Blizzard), Valerie, and Kellan. Blizzard is about ten years older than Kellan, I think. Valerie is three years younger than Blizzard. <strong>

**Please read and review, especially if you favourited/alerted! **


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